


more than one and one makes two

by shinykari (meinterrupted)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy is the fandom bicycle and I love it, F/M, Get Together, Going On Facebook: A Darcy Lewis Fic Exchange, Post-Thor, Wall Sex, clint loves it too, insults as endearments, pre-avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 02:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meinterrupted/pseuds/shinykari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton sees better from a distance.  Darcy Lewis just likes listening to her iPod on the roof.</p>
            </blockquote>





	more than one and one makes two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twistedingenue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedingenue/gifts).



> Written as a pinch hit for Kates for the Going on Facebook Darcy Lewis exchange, who asked for " _competence, Darcy NOT working for SHIELD, get-together fic, bdsm themes are okay, not expected. Lots of banter and snark. relationships perceived as conflict of interest, if you are feeling daring. Women being awesome_." 
> 
> Title and cut tag from “Wanted” by Hunter Hayes. Lots of love to [Sarah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talulabelle) for beta’ing. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

_'Cause everything that don't make sense about me / Makes sense when I'm with you_

\--

“So are you our new Head Baby-sitter in Charge?”

Clint raised one eyebrow as Dr. Foster’s assistant--Darlene? Daisy? Darcy, pretty sure it was Darcy--plopped down beside him on the roof. “HBIC, really?”

She grinned. “So you do know pop-culture! I thought they, like, grew you guys in a lab or something.” She settled herself, crossing her legs Indian-style and pulling out an iPod. “So, are you? Our HBIC?”

Clint glanced over at her. She was staring down at the small screen of her iPod, flicking through the playlists. “I’m the senior field agent stationed here,” he hedged. 

She looked up at him and cocked her head to the side, an expression of annoyed disbelief on her face. “That’s a ‘none of your damn business’ if I’ve ever heard one. Are you always this secretive about stuff?”

Clint couldn’t keep the wry smile off his face. “I do work for a covert government agency.”

“Mmm,” she said. “Like I could forget. What with the jack-booted thugs stealing all Jane’s research and your buddies following me to the freaking grocery store.”

“It’s for your own protection,” Clint said, mildly. 

“Riiiiiight,” she drawled, clearly unimpressed. “Because I’m going to get snatched by an evil supervillain on my way to pick up coffee and Hot Pockets.” She sat quietly for a few minutes, then, “So what happened to the suit? Not the bald one, he’s still around, but the one who took our stuff in the first place?”

Clint blinked, impressed in spite of himself. Apparently Darcy was more observant than he’d given her credit for. “Agent Coulson was needed back at headquarters. Agent Sitwell is in charge of this operation now.”

“Excellent, now I have names for when I write my Congressman about gross abuse of power by government officials.” She grinned at him, her smile sharp. “And what’s your name?”

“Barton,” he replied smoothly. “Clint Barton. I’m a secret agent, you know, and I have a license to kill.”

She laughed, throwing her head back and exposing the pale line of her throat. “Does that line usually work?”

He shrugged, smirking. “It works often enough that I haven’t excised it from my repertoire.”

“Oh ho ho, pulling out the big guns, eh, Secret Agent Man?” she mocked. “You even know what those words mean?”

“Coulson got me a word-of-the-day calendar for my last birthday,” he shot back.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Well, aren’t you special. Now if you don’t mind,” she wiggled her iPod at him, “I’m busy.”

Clint smirked but turned away to scan the horizon as she popped her earbuds in.

\--

“Did you know that Jane doesn’t like you?”

Clint cocked his head to the side as she sat down next to him, swinging her legs over the side of the roof. “I don’t think I’ve exchanged more that two words with Dr. Foster. Unlike you, who’s been bothering me daily for a week.”

Darcy shrugged. “I think it’s less you and more what you represent. She’s still bitter about the whole ‘stealing her research’ thing. And if I was really bothering you,” she added, “something tells me you wouldn’t hesitate to tell me off.”

“We did give it back,” he pointed out. “And I wasn’t actually in charge of the stealing, that was Agent Coulson.” 

“Which is what I told her.” She flipped through the songs on her iPod, ignoring him for the moment. “Why do you sit up here?”

He shrugged. “Why do you?”

She hummed non-committally. “Do they teach you that in secret agent school--deflection?”

Clint couldn’t hide his grin. “It was covered in Interrogation Resistance 101.”

Darcy snorted and looked up at him through her lashes. “And how’d you do in that class?”

“Graduated with honors.” He winked at her. “Not the only thing I’m good at.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t answer my question.”

His opinion of Darcy climbed a little higher. “Apparently I didn’t do as well in that class as I thought I did.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, and put in her earbuds. “Apparently not.”

\--

“Aren’t you cold up here? You’re not even wearing sleeves. Not that I’m complaining about the view, mind you.”

Clint turned and saw that Darcy was sporting a thick, multi-colored cable-knit sweater and had two steaming mugs in her hands. “That is the most hideous sweater I have ever seen,” he said.

She raised one eyebrow at him. “You keep sweet-talking me like that, secret agent man, and I’ll dump your cocoa right over the side of this building.”

“I take it back,” he said, making grabby hands at the mug. “It’s the most beautiful garment I have ever had the pleasure of seeing in person, and it makes you look positively radiant. Now gimme.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “I suppose that’s acceptable,” she muttered, and handed him the mug. She settled herself in next to him. “So, what are you watching tonight?”

He blew on the cocoa and took a small sip. It was perfect, silky smooth, with just a hint of cinnamon. “If I said I was stargazing, would you believe me?”

“Nope.” She sipped her own cocoa and stared out at the desert. “So what do you do when you’re not creepily watching me and Jane?”

Clint frowned and glanced over at her without turning his head. She was studiously avoiding his gaze, but he could read tension in the line of her jaw and the flutter of her pulse in her neck. He let a slow smile spread across his face. “Hmm, this and that,” he hedged. “Go to the shooting range, watch movies... grab a drink at the bar here in town.” The edge of her mouth quirked up. “Maybe next time I go there, you could meet me. I’ll buy you a beer.” He paused, then widened his eyes dramatically. “Wait, are you even old enough for a beer?”

Darcy turned and narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh, you and your sweet talk, Barton. A girl could really get used to that.” She popped her earbuds in. “We’ll see.”

\--

“So, is this what you listen to when you’re ignoring me up on the roof?”

Darcy quirked her eyebrow at him as she settled onto the barstool, her jean-clad leg brushing his. She’d traded in her usual bulky sweaters for a violet tank top that contrasted beautifully with her pale skin and dark hair and showed off her generous curves. “I have very eclectic musical tastes,” she answered before sipping her beer. He watched the way her creamy throat moved as she swallowed and had to take a quick drink of his own Budweiser to distract himself. “Actually, up there I usually listen to instrumental tracks. It was kind of my sanctuary, before it got invaded by jack-booted thugs,” she said as she nudged his foot with hers.

Clint smiled. “And now what is it?”

She licked her full, red lips, and the sight was like a punch to the gut. “I dunno, last few weeks, I’ve kinda considered it a good place to meet hot guys.”

“Guys? As in plural?” He pressed his beer bottle to his heart and flung his head back. “You wound me, Darcy! I thought we had something special, and now you tell me you’ve been bringing some other jack-booted thugs hot cocoa?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh yeah, I have a whole harem of roof-dwelling men at my beck and call. God, don’t be an idiot,” she said as she punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Of course not.”

“Mmm, good,” Clint murmured and moved in to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “Because I’d have to take them all out, and I never miss.” He was close enough to feel her breath on his lips. “Probably get fired for assaulting my coworkers, then I wouldn’t have any reason to stick around this little town.”

He watched her pupils dilate behind the lenses of her glasses. “And... and would that be a bad thing?” Darcy whispered.

“Oh yes.” He closed the last distance between them and kissed her. She tasted like artificial cherry lipgloss and Bud Light, and Clint wanted more. Instead, he pulled back just a little. “If I left Puente Antiguo, I wouldn’t get to see you anymore.” 

“And that _would_ be a bad thing,” she agreed, and chased his lips with her own. He cupped the back of her head with his free hand, threading his fingers through her hair as he licked his way into her mouth. She relaxed into him, tilting her head to give him easier access. He groaned as she kissed him hungrily, teeth nipping at his bottom lip, tongue rubbing against his. 

Breathless, he finally pulled back, grinning at her glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. “Very bad,” he said.

“Do you think...” She glanced around the small, poorly-lit tavern, where the pair of them were definitely attracting attention. “I think we should get out of here.”

Clint smirked. “But you just put five bucks in the jukebox. You’ll miss all your songs.”

She laid her hand on his thigh and slowly inched it upward. “I have all these songs on my iPod. Do you really want to stay here?” she asked as she traced his half-hard cock through his jeans.

He blew out a shuddering breath at the feel of her hot hand through the fabric. “Now that you mention it, I have this strange and sudden urge to stargaze.” 

Darcy laughed and squeezed him gently. “Mmm, good plan, secret agent man. I know just the place.”

\--

“So, were you going to tell me, or were you going to just, I don’t know, leave a note?”

Clint sighed and let his head fall forward. He’d been dreading this conversation ever since he’d gotten the call from Coulson last week. “I was going to tell you.”

He craned his head up to look at Darcy’s stiff form. He could read her hurt and anger in the stiff lines of her body, in the way her fists clenched and unclenched rhythmically. “When? The night before you left? ‘Thanks for a great couple of months, Darce, but I’m a ramblin’ man; hope you have a good life?’”

Clint reached up for her hand, tugging her down beside him. She dropped unwillingly, still keeping herself rigid at his side. “It’s not like that,” he murmured, wrapping his arm around her. After another minute, she relaxed into his side with a muffled sob. “I couldn’t tell you. They wouldn’t let me. Covert government agency, remember?”

“Fuck SHIELD,” she spat.

“Mmm,” he agreed, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispered, her breath hitching.

“Hey, hey, Darcy, look at me” he said, cupping her chin and turning her to face him. Her eyes, so blue behind her glasses, were shiny with unshed tears. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, a gentle promise. “It’s not even dangerous, I’ll just be keeping an eye on Dr. Selvig, same as I’ve been doing with you and Doc Foster.”

The edge of her lips quirked up. “Hopefully not _exactly_ the same,” she quipped, her voice still a little unsteady. “I don’t think Erik swings that way, anyhow.” Clint pulled a face, and she laughed. 

“You know you’re the only one for me,” he said. “And I’ll be back before you know it.”

She nodded and snuggled up closer to him. “You better.”

\--

“Did you miss me?”

Clint closed his eyes at the sound of her voice, certain it was yet another hallucination. “They told me... you were in Norway,” he managed, his voice rough. _Please let her really be here,_ he begged, _please let her be real this time_.

He turned slowly to see Darcy standing less than ten feet from him, rubbing her palms on her thighs. “I was,” she said. “Tromso. Apparently there was a, uh, _thing_ in New York.”

He nodded slowly, eyes raking over her. She was wearing the same hideous sweater she’d worn the first night she brought him cocoa up on that roof, and her ponytail was falling down around her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed behind her glasses from jet-lag or emotion or both, and Clint had never seen anyone so beautiful. “We took care of it.”

She bit her bottom lip and met his eyes. “Clint,” she whispered, reaching for him. His breath hitched and he closed the distance between them with two long strides, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her hungrily. She buried her fingers in his short hair and kissed him back, her teeth nipping sharply at his lips, her tongue rubbing against his aggressively. “We watched it on the news,” she groaned when he stretched the neckline of her sweater to suck a love-bite into her neck, “we saw Thor and Loki, and, oh yesss, and I was so worried, I didn’t see you, no one would tell us what was happening--” 

He shut her up with another kiss, licking his way into her mouth even as his fingers fumbled with the button on her jeans. He backed her into the wall and fell to his knees in front of her, kissing her pale stomach frantically as he tugged her pants down until they pooled around her ankles. He used his fingers and tongue on her until she came, not caring that anyone could walk into the SHIELD gym and see them. She was here, she was alive, and she was _his_. 

She was still dazed and pliant with her orgasm when he stood and tugged off her sweater, leaving her in just her bra and tank top. He shucked his own pants and hoisted her up until she wrapped her legs around his waist for stability. He slid into her in one smooth motion, the sensation almost too much for him. “Darcy, Darcy, Darcy,” he whispered reverently, as he thrust into her soft, warm body. “I love you, I’m so sorry, I missed you, never again, I love you,” he chanted, over and over, until she cried out his name, her inner walls fluttering around him as she climaxed again. The sensation pushed him over the edge, and he came on a groan, biting down on her shoulder to muffle the sound.

Darcy held tightly to him, ankles locked around his waist as his cock slowly softened inside her. “This wasn’t exactly what I had planned,” he muttered into her bare neck, a little embarrassed by his outburst now that it was over. He pressed a gentle kiss to the bite mark that was certain to become a nasty bruise in few hours.

“Mmm, I’m not complaining,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. He slowly lowered her to the ground, and she winced a little as he slid out of her. “I missed you,” she whispered.

Clint let out a shuddering breath and kissed her. “I missed you, too, so much.” He swallowed. “How long are you in New York?”

Darcy bit her bottom lip and looked up at him through her lashes. “Jane got offered a permanent lab here, and I graduated while you were gone, so she asked me to come with her,” she said, her voice small and tentative. “Apparently no one else can read her handwriting.”

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “So, for good?” When she nodded, he picked her up and spun around, drawing a shriek of laughter from her. He set her back on her feet and crowded her back against the wall, nuzzling at her neck. “Well, I feel I should warn you that the stargazing is pretty much shit, but the roof has a great view of the skyline.”


End file.
